


The Christmas Calendar: Sherlock style

by 200and21bees



Series: The Spirit of the Season [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 24 Days of Christmas, Anal Fingering, Ballet, Bees, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Christmas Party, Christmas Shopping, Christmas Smut, Christmas Tree, Christmas at 221B Baker Street, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gift unwrapping, Hand Jobs, Holidays, Ice Skating, M/M, Massage, Mistletoe, Riding, Romantic Gestures, Sherlock Dances, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes and Bees, You Know What Sort Of Riding, gift wrapping, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-09 07:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/200and21bees/pseuds/200and21bees
Summary: Sherlock makes John a Christmas calendar, the things he comes up with...12 short snippets (plus a bonus one) from the 1st of December until Christmas Day.Slight continuity with the previous works on this series, but this is still an independent work.





	1. December 1st

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe this is already the third year I'm doing this. Why can't I have a strong commitment like this to stuff like studying too??

 

 

"John? John!"

 

All the air left John's lungs as Sherlock practically jumped on him. "Mmwhat, Sh'lock," he groaned, opening his eyes. "Am I late for work?"

 

Sherlock shook his head, tugging on the duvet while John tightened his hold on the garment. "No, it's your day off. But Jooohn," he complained, pulling John's pillow from under his head.

 

"Then let me bloody sleep, it's only seven am," John groaned, rolling over and trying to pull the pillow from Sherlock’s grip. "And give me my pillow."

 

"It's December first." Sherlock announced, as if that date should hold any meaning to John, who just grumbled. "And I'm tired, let me sleep."

 

"December, John! Christmas!" Sherlock said, exasperated.

 

John sighed and opened his eyes, turning to look at Sherlock. "Okay, what is it?" He asked, pursing his lips. "We still have almost a month to prepare for Christmas so if you're panicking about having forgotten it again I'm-"

 

"I made you a calendar." Sherlock cut him off, his ears turning a little red all of a sudden.

 

"What?"

 

"I made you a Christmas calendar," Sherlock repeated, his voice getting small. "I thought it'd be nice, but I don't know, I've never had one and I don't know if you'd eve-"

 

John cut him off with a kiss, one elbow braced on the bed as he rested his other hand on the nape of Sherlock’s neck. “You’re an old romantic,” he chuckled, pressing their foreheads together. “You actually made and didn’t just buy one?”

 

Sherlock scoffed, blushing a bit more. “Of course I made one. You’d complain about having to eat chocolate every day even though you like chocolate ridiculously much – stupid doctor habits – and the ones with the pictures are just boring.”

 

John giggled a bit and sat up properly. “Alright, so what’s today’s surprise?” he asked, smiling at Sherlock, who bit his lip a little.

 

“You’ll see it later, I thought you wanted to sleep now,” Sherlock smiled and laid down, pulling John with him too and cuddling to his side. John looked at him suspiciously, but complied and snuggled close to him, falling into a doze after a while even though he kept wondering what Sherlock could’ve possibly come up with.

 

They stayed in bed until John’s bladder grumbled unhappily and he had to get up. “Sherlock, I need the loo,” he mumbled, disengaging himself from the detective’s cuddle and tiptoeing into the bathroom.

 

When he got back, Sherlock had gotten up too, and John found him in the kitchen, tapping away on his phone.

 

“Put that thing down, would you?” John commented playfully, kissing Sherlock’s nose over the screen before walking to the fridge. “What do you want for breakfast? I recon the eggs are still edible unless you’ve decided to stuff the kitchen with yet another experiment,” he huffed. “God know this place is always full of test tubes and human organs - “

 

John stopped as he opened the door and saw the insides of the fridge. No sign of the chopped-up toes, or the suspicious petri dishes. Instead, the fridge smelled faintly of some sort of cleaning product, the shelves and drawers now squeaky clean and filled with fresh, actual groceries.

 

“So, I thought you’d appreciate having a clean, fresh fridge this time, if you’re planning on cooking something this year. Or maybe cleaning it would’ve been wise earlier too, it’s not like I’m doing this only because it’s Christmas,” Sherlock mumbled, rambling a little.

 

John turned to look at him, grinning widely. “This is actually a very good surprise, thank you. You could consider doing this more often than just once every year though,” he teased, kissing Sherlock’s cheek.

 

“So, you think it qualifies as a Christmas calendar surprise?” Sherlock asked, pulling a slightly crumpled envelope from the pocket of his dressing gown. He gave it to John, who pulled out a small card with a huge number 1 on it. The other side said ‘clean, well-stocked fridge’. John had to chuckle, smiling at the card fondly and then lifting his gaze to Sherlock.

  
“Yeah, it does qualify,” he chuckled with a soft smile, pulling him into a kiss. “Thank you, love.”

 

Sherlock kissed him for a while and then broke the kiss, nodding towards the fridge. “You were about to make breakfast. All this hard work is making me hungry,” he stated, sitting down at the kitchen table, which was still as cluttered as always.

  
“I’ll feed you up. Tomorrow the table, then?” John laughed, starting to make breakfast for them both.

 

 


	2. December 2nd and 3rd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second and third day of Sherlock's Christmas project.  
> Pure fluff, I hope.

 

 

John was still amazed by the clean fridge when he made breakfast the next morning, smiling at the now neat veggie drawer and the actually really cute multicoloured containers that were meant for storing the leftovers (in the red and yellow ones) and Sherlock’s “essential experiment materials” (in the green and blue containers).

 

John had woken up with no Sherlock on the bed, but as soon as he’d reached the bathroom to brush his teeth, the detective had rushed in and announced there was a case. So, John had ditched the thoughts about a warm shower and headed right to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

 

Even though Sherlock’s surprising calendar project had made John feel like it was Christmas Eve already, the running from crime scenes to the NSY quickly threw John back to reality. When Sherlock was studying the crime scene, John could only stand there and try to figure out what the man was after, which was what he did pretty much always. When they got to the Yard, Sherlock examined the rest of the material that was given to him and then laid out the details of the case, solving it rather fast. Greg rushed to arrest the culprit and then Sherlock and John were free to head home.

 

John had time to look around, and he chuckled at the Christmas decorations strewn all over New Scotland Yard. Greg had even stuffed a small plastic tree on the corner of his office, which John found funny for some reason.

 

Sherlock paid seemingly no attention to the festive decorations as he worked to solve the case, but as they left the Yard John saw him cast an assessing look on the dark green tinsel that was hanging over the break room doorway with cute little red bows on the corners.

 

John remembered that Sherlock had been worried about the lack of a Christmas tree last year, however short that worry had been. He started to suspect that Sherlock would make amends this year, and he could only hope the detective wouldn’t go mad with the decorations. But no, that wouldn’t be like him, John thought and smiled as they caught a taxi and headed back home.

 

As soon they reached the flat, Sherlock practically threw his coat on the rack and then rushed out of the flat. John frowned as he took off his own coat, hanging it on and trying to figure out what Sherlock was up to, since he was making quite a racket.

 

After a while, Sherlock walked in with a big box, leaving it on the sofa and then looking at John rather proudly.

 

“What’s in there?” John asked, nodding at the box with an amused smile.

 

Sherlock opened it and picked up the letter that was on top. John took it curiously and pulled out a card that was similar to what he’d gotten yesterday. Only this one had a big number 2 on it. John turned it over and looked at the text written on it.

 

“’ _Cheerful Christmas decorating’_?” John read out, chuckling and looking at Sherlock with a grin. “This is great, but how do you plan on getting to ‘cheerful’?”

 

Sherlock smiled and walked to the tv stand, turning on the dc player and putting one cd in. When he pressed play, the flat was filled with the first chords of “Jingle Bell Rock”. John laughed and shook his head, pulling Sherlock close and kissing him softly. “Alright, that’ll do it. Let’s just eat something first though, I’m starving.”

  
And so, after eating the quick hash John put together they settled on the couch with the box between them. John grinned and opened the flaps of the box again, pulling out the first strand of tinsel.

 

Sherlock followed suit and pulled out a ball of fairy lights that were all tangled up. John chuckled and wrapped the tinsel around Sherlock’s neck and pulled him to the sofa, where they spent a good while untangling the lights and giggling.

 

They spread elaborate tablecloths onto the coffee table and the desk (after clearing it from all the clutter), and the desk also got a festive table piece with candles in the middle of it. Sherlock got the honours of hanging the fairy lights around the mirror that was hanging over the fireplace, while John hung up the festive red curtains with tiny stars on them to the windows. “I didn’t even know we had these,” he noted, rather liking the sight of them.

 

“We didn’t, those are actually an extra pair from Mrs Hudson, she didn’t need them all so I asked if we could borrow them,” Sherlock admitted, coming to stand next to John.

 

“Oh? Well, they look quite nice, don’t they?” John smiled, wrapping an arm around Sherlock and leaning into him.

 

“Yes, they do…” Sherlock nodded, turning to look at John, smiling down at him. “There’s a lot of decorations for the tree, but we’ll get to that later,” he said, dropping a shy kiss to John’s forehead before fetching a dark red strand of tinsel and what looked like a batch of herbs.

 

“Mistletoe,” the detective smiled, lifting the bundle for John to see. “Well, a plastic one, but the idea’s the same… Well, not that we have to hang it here, if you’d rather not to,” he rambled, twirling it in his hands. John smiled fondly and pulled Sherlock closer, pressing finger onto Sherlock’s lips.

 

“Of course I want to hang it here,” he said, smiling and taking the plastic decoration, looking at it. “We should have them all over the flat, so I’d have an excuse to kiss you more often. Well, I don’t really need an excuse, do I?” he asked, grinning widely and leaning in. Sherlock blinked and then smiled, meeting John in the middle and kissing him softly.

 

After they broke the kiss, Sherlock pulled the chair John had used and hung the tinsel and the mistletoe on the doorway leading to the kitchen. When he was done, he stepped down and was immediately pulled under the decorations by John.

 

They both giggled for a while and then giggled some more as they kissed. Eventually Sherlock had to pull back to catch his breath, while John kissed his throat.

 

“You know, there are two more mistletoe decorations in the box,” Sherlock mumbled, grinning at the ceiling.

 

 

~'*'~

 

 

Sunday morning John woke up in an empty bed, which wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the letter on Sherlock's pillow. John took it and grinned as he pulled out the card, marked with the number 3. He flipped it, already smiling widely.

 

‘Breakfast in bed’ it said. John listened, but no sounds came from the rest of the flat, and he’d noticed if Sherlock had snuck out recently. He was about to reach for his phone to check the time when Sherlock pushed the door open with his foot, carrying a large tray.

 

“The perfect timing. How long have you been waiting at the door?” John asked, amused. He abandoned his phone and sat up, leaning to the headboard.

 

“I just happen to have excellent hearing,” Sherlock shrugged, smiling too as he settled the tray on the bed, climbing in too.

 

“So, why breakfast in bed?” John asked, looking at the tray rather hungrily. Sherlock chuckled and leaned into his shoulder, shrugging again. “It’s romantic, and since it’s the first Advent Sunday I thought it’d be appropriate,” he mumbled, picking up a slice of apple and eating it.

 

“Well, I do appreciate the gesture,” John grinned, sipping on the tea and then picking up one of the sandwiches. “Do you think you could make this an everyday habit?” he teased, biting into the bread.

 

Sherlock chuckled and took the other sandwich, his ears a little red. “Don’t hold out too much hope,” he mumbled, glancing at John with a smile.

 

They ate the sandwiches in comfortable silence, and then Sherlock insisted on feeding the apple slices to John, dipping them in honey and yoghurt. John giggled but ate most of them and then made Sherlock finish the last few. Then they just leaned into each other and finished their cups of tea.

 

John sighed contentedly, closing his eyes and resting his head on Sherlock’s shoulder. “I love you, you know.”

 

Sherlock just chuckled and nodded, his head resting against John’s. “Yeah, I do. And I love you, too.”

 

 


	3. December 4th and 5th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some domestic fluff and sexy moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow I actually wrote quite a lot, be proud! Also why can't I write stuff without smut, I was trying to save it for later.  
> Oh well, I've got a few more ideas ;)

 

Monday, John had to wake up at seven for work, and he grinned at the sight of Sherlock sleeping next to him. It took John a great deal of willpower not to cuddle against him and just go back to sleep. But no, he was a grown-up man with grown-up responsibilities.

Quietly slipping out of the bed, John made his way to the bathroom and brushed his teeth before making a sandwich for himself, still shaking his head at the clean fridge.

"I'll never get used to that," he muttered fondly to himself as he ate. 

He started wondering about today's surprise as he walked to the clinic, rather liking the anticipation even though he'd have to wait until his shift was over. His mind drifted to the evening again as he got bored (the flu season was still going on, he couldn't help it).

As lunchtime crawled around, John made his way to the canteen to get lunch. But the young man behind the counter shook his head and refused to serve him, instead giving him an envelope.

"Please, tell _him_ not to scare staff around here," the man added, looking like he was torn between amusement and anger, which was emotion John knew very well when it came to Sherlock. Of course this was Sherlock's doing.

The doctor nodded, gave him a smile and opened the letter, pulling out the card. Big number four and the text 'homemade, healthy lunch (I know what kind of rubbish they serve at the canteen)'.

Shaking his head even more, John walked to the doctors' break room, spotting the foil-wrapped blob on the table instantly. He didn't even question how Sherlock had managed to smuggle it into the room, he was just happy that no one had thrown it away since he was actually starving.

He had to smile as he saw his name on note taped onto the foil, written in huge capital letters. The food was still warm, it couldn't have been waiting there for long, he realised when he started peeling off the foil to reveal the container beneath it.

Just as he was opening the box, Sarah came in. "Please tell me it's something edible, not body parts," she said, walking closer. "I went to look for you when I first saw it. It's Sherlock, isn't it?"

John nodded and chuckled, shooting her an amused smile. "Don't worry, it's just food this time," he assured her, revealing the plate full of salad, mashed potatoes and what looked like home-made meatballs. He got a fork and started eating, Sarah still frowning at the end of the table.

"Food? But why?" Sarah seemed confused, which John had to admit was quite justified.

"It's a Christmas thing, 24 surprises for me. And it seems he means actual thoughtful surprises. It's really nice," he said, realising the food was very good, probably the best (only) meal Sherlock had ever made for him.

"Huh," Sarah just hummed, getting her own packed lunch from the fridge.

"Why don't you cook here more often? You clearly have the skills to" John asked Sherlock when he got home, looking at the figure in Sherlock's chair. When he entered the kitchen though, he sighed. 

"Alright, I can see why," he said to himself, starting to clean the pile of dishes that cluttered the sink. Sherlock came into the kitchen a while later, silently starting to help John, who gave him a small smile and kiss on the cheek.

"You know, I could probably deal with all the dishes if you promised to make as good food every day as you made today."

Sherlock rolled his eyes but smiled. "Now you're dreaming too big."

~'*'~

To John's surprise, Sherlock slept in with him the next morning, snuggled close to him. John didn't wake him up, enjoying the rather rare occasion. He didn't have to work, so unless Sherlock got a call to a case they could just stay there.

It was nearly ten o'clock when Sherlock woke up, his whole body stretching before he huffed a breath and opened his eyes, looking at John.

"Morning," he mumbled, smiling a little. John smiled back, yawning a bit. "Mmmm, how do I get the feeling that you sleeping in is somehow related to today's surprise?" He teased.

Sherlock smirked and leaned in to press his lips to John's briefly. "Well, you're on the right track. Let me get something from the kitchen, maybe brush your teeth meanwhile," he stated, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

"You sweet romantic," John quipped sarcastically, smiling to himself as he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his mouth. Sherlock popped in to do the same before they both returned to the bed, where a tray was waiting for them.

"Before you ask, no this isn't the surprise. I've done breakfast in bed already," Sherlock said, tugging the covers back. John got in too, and then smiled as Sherlock gave him a bowl of granola and another with fruit slices.

They ate slowly, feeding the fruit pieces to each other and giggling when John poked Sherlock's nose with one apple slice. There was also tea and biscuits, and then they just leaned into each other and enjoyed the quiet morning.

After a while, Sherlock moved the tray to the floor and turned to John, kissing him softly and resting his hands on his shoulders. John kissed back, leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed and his hands on Sherlock's hips.

When they had to break the kiss to breathe, Sherlock smirked and moved to straddle John's lap, sliding his hands up John's neck and cupped his cheeks.

"Hi," he mumbled, leaning in to kiss John again, this time with more heat. John could feel Sherlock pressed against his body and his hands slid under Sherlock's t-shirt without conscious thought.

A small noise escaped Sherlock's mouth, and the detective pulled back to take a few breaths, his hands still on John's cheeks. "Mmmh, John," he breathed out, wrapping his arms around John's neck.

"Fine?" John asked, leaning in to suck on Sherlock's jaw, which elicited another noise from the detective, who nodded with his eyes squeezed shut. "Uh, yeah," he added as an afterthought.

John smirked and sucked a little harder, creating a small mark, which made Sherlock shudder in his lap. He buried a hand in John's hair and kissed him again, now pressing his groin into John's stomach.

John was about to slide his hand into Sherlock's pyjama bottoms when the detective pulled back and tugged on John's hand. "No, wait," he mumbled, still kissing him. "Let's lay down."

They moved lower on the bed, again giggling as John tried to move with Sherlock still in his lap. Eventually they managed to crawl and slither down so that they were comfortably laying down, duvet half on top of them.

Sherlock's shirt had ridden up, and John's pyjamas were already half-off, so the next logical step for them was to undress each other. They couldn't stop kissing, which made it slightly more challenging but eventually they managed to strip each other down to their underwear under the duvet.

John smiled fondly at Sherlock, who grinned back coyly and pulled John closer under the covers. "Do you remember the first time we had sex here?" He asked, his cheeks turning a little pink. "We didn't even take off our clothes, yet it was the best thing I've ever felt."

John chuckled, kissing him lazily. "Mmm, it was amazing. You were amazing," he smiled, stroking Sherlock's cheek. "Like I've said, I'd be happy if we never had sex. But it's definitely a bonus," he added, chuckling.

Sherlock giggled and slid his leg over John's hip, trapping him against the bed lightly. "I want you to finger me today," he mumbled suddenly, burying his face against John's neck. The doctor couldn't help the small moan, squeezing Sherlock's hip.

Even though Sherlock enjoyed sex and wanted to try things they had taken it very slowly, taking their time with every new thing. John loved the way Sherlock strove to respect his own boundaries, and admitted when he wasn't in the mood.

This though, Sherlock asking for what he wanted, was John's favourite. He let his hand slide over Sherlock's bum, smiling to himself. "God, Sherlock..." He sighed, his fingers sliding down his boxers and teasing the skin right above his butt crack.

Sherlock was already holding the lube before John could ask, pulling off both of their boxers and laying down against John's side again. John took the lube and slicked his fingers, watching Sherlock and smiling. "You're brilliant," he mumbled, tugging Sherlock tightly against himself and sliding his hand between his legs.

Sherlock moaned in reply and lifted his leg over John's hip again, giving him better access as John gently rubbed against his hole, slowly working one finger in. Despite all the time they took to get used to new things, Sherlock didn't like teasing when it came to stretching him, so John didn't waste too much time before adding another finger.

Sherlock kept making noises and hips his soon started to roll against John's. John smiled and kissed him, giggling when Sherlock tried to kiss back, completely distracted and sloppy. “God, John. Don’t laugh,” Sherlock groaned, smiling too.

“Kiss me properly then,” John mumbled, kissing Sherlock’s nose.

“I can’t focus when you – _fuck_ ,” Sherlock moaned as John started scissoring his fingers a little with a devilish grin on his face.

Sherlock grabbed his cheeks and kissed him, one of his hands sliding lower to squeeze John’s bum after a while. John hummed his agreement and finally brushed his fingers over Sherlock’s prostate, which made the detective break the kiss with a gasp, his hips bucking against John.

“God, that,” he moaned, his fingers digging into John’s buttock. John repeated the action, loving the sounds Sherlock was making. “John, I-I’ll...God, more,” Sherlock stammered out, gasping lightly.

John moaned and pulled his fingers out briefly to add a third, which made Sherlock go mad, moaning and pushing his hips against John’s fingers urgently. “I’m going to come,” he moaned, panting against John's neck as his hips twitched, caught between rubbing off against John and pushing back into his fingers. Sherlock slid one hand to John’s groin, squeezing his length with fumbling fingers.

John moaned and crooked his fingers inside Sherlock, rubbing them directly over his prostate. The detective came with a shout, muffling the sounds in John’s neck as his come splattered on John’s stomach and thigh. John gently rubbed Sherlock's prostate to draw out his orgasm, pulling them slowly out when he whimpered.

After panting for a few second, Sherlock refocused and turned his attention to John. The doctor was about to pull him closer for a kiss, but Sherlock had other ideas when he crawled lower and pressed losses to John’s hip bone and lower stomach.

“Honey, what are you –“ John’s words were cut off by a moan when Sherlock licked his erection, as if tasting it. The small action alone made his stomach twitch with arousal, and John had to struggle to keep his hips on the bed as the detective continued to explore John's length.

It wasn’t actually a blowjob, Sherlock just _licked_ John’s erection until he came, which didn’t take long. John moaned Sherlock’s name when he came, finally letting his hips buck off the bed.

“God, Sherlock,” he groaned, pulling the detective up and into a kiss. “That was bloody brilliant,” he mumbled, smiling and kissing him until they both came down from the high. Then they settled comfortably and cuddled for a while, letting the semen dry on their skins.

After what must’ve been almost half an hour, Sherlock's phone pinged and he reached to check it. “A crime scene, we need to get ready,” he said enthusiastically, kissing John’s cheek quickly before getting up and tossing an envelope at him.

“I’ll wait in the shower,” he smirked, heading to the bathroom.

John smiled at the letter and checked the card. There was the big number five, and when John flipped the card over, he had to laugh when he saw the text: 'lazy morning sex'.

 

 


	4. December 6th and 7th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff, and actual date night, and some more sexy times.

John woke up alone on Wednesday morning and found that the detective had left the flat completely. At least he'd sent John a text to let him know that he was at Bart's this time.

John had a nice morning with a good breakfast, a still-clean fridge (yes, he was still happy about it), and his laptop. He had read the news, made a few notes about their latest case and scrolled through a few interesting articles by the time Sherlock came home, carrying a big bag and a suspicious bucket.

"John," the brunet started, leaving the sack on the floor and the bucket on the coffee table and shrugging off his coat.

"Mmmm, love?" John hummed, reading something on his laptop.

"I need to put this in the fridge. It's too big to fit it in my containers, and I can't possibly cut it," Sherlock said, pointing to the bucket. "It's airtight, and I promise I'll deal with it in a few days, but for now..?"

John raised his eyebrow at the tentative tone in Sherlock's voice and chuckled. "It's just as much your fridge as it is mine. Besides, I've put up with a lot of stuff worse than an airtight bucket, so don't worry."

Sherlock nodded and gave John a small smile before grabbing the bucket and dumping it in the fridge. Then he came back and dragged the sack onto the middle of the floor and crouched in front of it.

"What's that then? Don't tell me you're going to stuff that to the fridge too?" John asked, eyeing the big bag a little suspiciously now. Sherlock just chuckled and shook his head.

"No, don't worry. This is today's surprise. Or well, the thing we're going to be doing today," Sherlock said cheerfully, peeking into the bag without letting John see. He seemed to be satisfied with whatever he found there, because he left the sack there and stood up, heading to the kitchen to tend to his microscope and whatever he was researching with it.

John left the sack alone, if Sherlock wanted to surprise him he didn’t want to ruin it. But he kept glancing at the bag, idly wondering what on earth it could contain.

In the afternoon, they got dressed and got in a taxi with the sack. The second Sherlock had told him to dress warmly John's suspicions were raised again, and they only got stronger as Sherlock directed the taxi towards Natural History Museum.

When they got there, Sherlock led them through the crowds, and suddenly John realised where they were going and looked at Sherlock with a frown. "You're taking me ice-skating?" He asked, definitely surprised. Sherlock looked at him and then grinned, pulling an envelope from one of his coat pockets.

John pulled out the usual card, flipping it over. It said 'romantic outdoors ice skating' and there were two tickets taped to the card. "Romantic?" John grinned, taking the tickets and storing the card and the envelope in his coat pocket.

"I'm hoping so, at least," Sherlock replied distractedly, looking around. He pulled John through the equipment rent and then found an empty bench for them to sit on. There, he finally showed John the insides of the bag.

He pulled out two pairs of figure skates: comfortable-looking, brown ones for John and sleek, black ones for himself. "I chose figure skates for you too since you haven't skated in ages so there's no particular type of skates you're used to now, and it'll be easier for me to teach you when we've got the same type of skates."

John nodded silently, examining the brown skates. "To be honest, I'm quite out of words right now."

Sherlock chuckled, starting to put his skates on. John followed suit, and soon they both had laced up their skates. Sherlock grinned and gave John a pair of warm, knitted gloves, a knitted beanie and a helmet. John scowled at the helmet, but pulled it on as Sherlock showed that he had one too.

"You know, I do take safety seriously sometimes," Sherlock chuckled, standing up and pulling a pair of mittens on. John got up too, and then they headed to the rink.

John had trouble moving around at first, and he had to grip the edge of the rink every few metres while Sherlock glided gracefully next to him and tried to give him advice. After a while, John got the gist of it, and he could grab Sherlock's hand instead.

They slowly made their way round the rink a few times, and at one point Sherlock turned around so that he was skating backwards in front of John, holding both of his hands now. John grinned at him and tried to pull himself closer to the man, nearly making them both fall. Sherlock gripped his waist and laughed, the two of them coming to a halt as he leaned in to kiss John.

John kissed back until someone else nearly collided with them, and they had to break the kiss and start moving again. Sherlock rested his hands on John's hips from the behind and stayed close to him as they slowly circled the rink a few more times.

"Let's try something more challenging," Sherlock mumbled, letting go of John and slowing down. The detective showed John a few backwards skating techniques (which he managed to do without falling over), and then how to do a crossover (which he didn't really manage).

"Alright, we can take a break," Sherlock grinned, taking John's hand and pulling him to the changing area. They changed into their shoes and got hot chocolates from Hotel Chocolat. They sat down to enjoy their cocoas and Sherlock drew a bee on the cream on John's drink, making the doctor giggle.

As the evening went on, the sky got darker and darker, highlighting the fairy lights hanging basically everywhere, and John had to admit it was pretty damn romantic. They went to the rink for another go after finishing their drinks, Sherlock got to show off the few skating tricks he knew, including an impressive pirouette, while John just circled around slowly and watched him.

Eventually the brisk air got too cold for them, and they packed their stuff and headed home, both of them grinning happily and their noses red from the cold.

 

~'*'~

 

"Ugh, I'm sore everywhere," John groaned the next day as he walked to the living room with a hot cup of coffee. "We should exercise more often, the running alone isn't clearly doing the trick," he muttered, nearly flopping down to his chair. He’d woken up with a sore bum, but by no, the stiffness had reached his upper back and thighs as well, making him look frankly ridiculous as he was mostly waddling around.

"Mmm, in that case... This might help," Sherlock grinned, handing John today's envelope. John opened it and read the text aloud. "'Relaxing Thai massage'? You know Thai massage?"

"Well, I can't claim myself to be a professional Thai masseuse, but I know the basics," Sherlock muttered, clearly unhappy about having to admit he was an amateur. John grinned and looked at the card again, sipping on his coffee. "Mmm, alright then. When will this relaxation occur?"

"I need to set everything up first, you can finish your coffee and then take a quick shower," Sherlock said, getting up. "Oh, and if you liked the ice-skating, I've sort of planned to repeat it next week. Just letting you know if you'd rather have a completely new surprise every day," he added, sounding just a tiny bit nervous.

"Oh, that was really nice, I wouldn't mind doing it again to be honest," John nodded with a big grin. Sherlock gave him a happy nod and then disappeared into the bedroom. John did as he was told, drinking his coffee and then heading to the bathroom.

He entered their bedroom twenty minutes later with only a towel wrapped around his hips. "Oh, right. Should I wear clothes or not?" He asked, looking around the now dimly lit bedroom that had a rather professional-looking massage table in the middle of it.

Sherlock was standing on the far end of it, smiling and setting up a CD player. "Well, it's up to you, but it'd be easier if you'd be fully nude," he said, trying to sound nonchalant even when John could see the blush on his cheeks and tiny shift of his hips.

"Oh, okay then," John grinned, promptly letting his towel drop to the floor. Sherlock froze for a second, CD on his hand, and then cleared his throat. "Uh, you can lay down on the table. On your, uh... stomach, at first."

John grinned even wider and did as Sherlock told, settling down comfortably and relaxing. After a few seconds, Sherlock seemed to tear his eyes away from John's bum and finally get the CD in the player and a relaxing, quiet music filled the room.

"Um, just let me know if I'm too rough, or well..." Sherlock mumbled, and then John heard the massage oil bottle open. Soon he felt Sherlock's oily hands spread the oil on his back, warming up the muscles with slow, long pulls. Sherlock worked down John's backside, from his neck to his ankles, first slowly and then with more force and tempo, which caused John to make a few joyful noises.

"Too much?" Sherlock asked, lifting his hands for a second.

"Fuck, no. Bloody brilliant, don't you dare to stop," John mumbled, wiggling his lower body at Sherlock. The brunet continued, repeating the process from John's neck to his toes a few more times with a bit more pressure before stopping.

"Alright, um... You can turn around now, and take some water," he said, clearing his throat again. When John turned around on the table, Sherlock gave him a glass of water, trying to keep his eyes off of John's half hard erection.

"Oh, um... I'll deal with that later," John chuckled, shaking his head and blushing a little. He drank the water quickly and then laid down on his back, trying to will his boner to go away before things got uncomfortable. It worked for a while, until Sherlock put his hands on John again.

The doctor closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Sherlock repeated the process of massaging every inch of John, adding more pressure with every pass from shoulder to ankle. John kept humming in agreement when Sherlock found a particularly soft spot, trying not to moan aloud as he only got harder and harder at the sensuous touch.

After what must've been at least ten minutes, Sherlock stopped his movement at John's lower stomach, instead of moving down his hips and to his thighs, the brunet abruptly wrapped his fingers around John's length, catching him off guard.

"Jesus Christ!" John moaned in surprise, his eyes snapping open. Sherlock wasn't looking at him, instead he was watching his hands as he stroked John, spreading oil to his length. The look of concentration and the bright blush covering Sherlock's face was incredibly hot to John, and he let out an appreciative sound, rocking his hips upwards into Sherlock's hands.

Sherlock let out a quiet sound in return, tightening his fingers around John and sliding his other hand lower, exploring John's testicles carefully. That did it for John, and he came after a few strokes, groaning Sherlock's name.

When he came down from his orgasm, John reached a hand towards Sherlock and tugged him closer, seeing him palm the bulge tenting his trousers. "Fuck let me, love," he groaned, opening Sherlock's pants and plunging his hands inside, cupping and fondling his length until the detective came too, moaning John's name through gritted teeth and leaning over John as he curled up a little.

"Mmmh, I should've gotten a towel ready too," he muttered after a while, straightening up and grimacing at the mess in his boxers. John just giggled, sitting up on the massage table.

"That was brilliant," he sighed, pulling Sherlock into kiss. "But now be both need another shower, let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I honestly considered making that sack contain bongade stuff, wtf... Maybe I'll write a caption like that on my ig page, lol.)


	5. December 8th and 9th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock keeps surprising John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late, I know! Yesterday was a mess and this is a really short chapter (but even more fluffy I hope). But you'll be getting the next one on time tomorrow, don't worry :)

 

 

Friday morning, John left Sherlock sleeping on their bed and left for work, grinning as he realised how loose and relaxed he was feeling. He’d have to ask Sherlock to massage him again and maybe he could learn a few tricks so he could return the favour, it’d be only fair.

 

Unsurprisingly, massaging Sherlock was all he could think of for the rest of the morning. He thought about how compact Sherlock’s calves and thighs would feel under his touch as he was writing a prescription of nasal drops and he almost blushed when he had to write a referral to a masseuse, remembering Sherlock’s hands on him.

 

Luckily, he got a grip on himself during lunch break and managed to avoid embarrassing himself. God, he felt like he was fifteen years old all over again, which wasn’t a bad thing by itself. It was actually brilliant how Sherlock kept surprising him all the time, even though they took things very slowly. There was always some way Sherlock could surprise him without going forwards too quickly and he would find it each time, and that always made John love him even more.

 

Realising he was staring at his paperwork like a love-sodden idiot, John chuckled to himself and continued filing the last papers, quite ready to get home.

 

As he climbed the stairs with the grocery bags, John wondered what Sherlock had come up with today. Realising all this had only been going on for a week now, John chuckled and shook his head as he walked into the living room.

 

“Sherlock? I’m home,” he called out, leaving the bags to shrug off his coat. Sherlock peeked his head from the kitchen and then quickly walked to the living room to give John today’s envelope and pick up the bags. “You’re being helpful,” John grinned and took the envelope, opening it.

 

A big number 8 greeted John on one side of the card, and the words ‘clean kitchen table’ on the other. “Oh, so you actually were planning on cleaning the table too,” John chuckled, looking at Sherlock with a big smile before continuing with a more serious tone: “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

 

“You haven’t even seen the table yet,” Sherlock scoffed, wearing a small satisfied smile. John followed him into the kitchen, stopping on the doorway when he saw the table. Even Sherlock’s microscope had been stored away, and the table was completely empty except for a white tablecloth and a woven Christmas table runner. John noticed that Sherlock had also cleaned the cupboards and the stove and put up a few tiny poinsettia wreaths and more dark green tinsel around the kitchen, making the room look very Christmassy without being too tacky.

 

“Wow, this really looks great,” John sighed, looking at Sherlock, who nodded. “I’m glad you liked it,” he muttered, taking a few steps closer. The detective’s eyes flicked from John’s face to something above the doctor’s head and then back as Sherlock came even closer.

 

John looked up and grinned at the mistletoe above him, looking back at Sherlock and pulling him close. “Oh, just come here and kiss me,” he grinned, sealing their lips together. A small noise escaped Sherlock’s mouth as he kissed back softly.

 

They kissed for a good while, just standing there on the kitchen doorway with their hands on each other’s hips. Eventually, Sherlock pulled back and sighed a little, a small smile lighting up his face. “Let’s get the groceries in the fridge, and then maybe you could kiss me again…”

 

John grinned and nodded. “Alright, that’s a great plan.”

 

 

~’*’~

 

 

Next morning, John found an envelope on Sherlock’s pillow again. He grinned and opened it, finding the card and a folded sheet of paper inside. Frowning, John flipped the card, and read it. ‘A list of all the things I love about you’ it said, and John felt his heart throb. He almost read the paper then and there, but then he realised he had work to go to, and he reluctantly put the card back in the envelope and took it with him.

 

He finally opened the list during his first break at work, realising the list had at least two hundred things on it. He only managed to read the first twenty or so during his break, completely overwhelmed by the gesture.

 

Some of the things Sherlock had listed were things John hadn’t realised about himself (‘I love the way you always tilt your head to the right when chewing, it’s cute’, ‘I love how you puff your chest out when we hold hands in public’) and some were so emotional that John wanted to just go back home and hug the man (‘I love you because you are you’, ‘I love the way you look at me when you’re about to kiss me’). Some of them were surprising and even odd (‘I love your toes’), and some were plain Sherlock (‘I love how you tolerate having body parts in the fridge’).

 

He read the list on his lunch break and on his way home. By the time he reached Baker Street, he had read through every point on the list and was quite eager to kiss Sherlock and tell him a few things that he loved about the man in return.

 

 


	6. December 10th and 11th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second Advent Sunday, and quite a lot of food.

 

 

Sunday morning, John didn’t let Sherlock get out of bed for hours, cuddling him and kissing all over his face while mumbling sweet nothings.

 

“I should make a list like that, just in case you didn’t know how much I love you,” he muttered, watching Sherlock with the widest, happiest smile. Sherlock just nodded and kissed John softly, mumbling something that sounded like “of course I know that” in between kisses.

 

Eventually John had to use the loo and Sherlock got up as well. Both brushed their teeth and then kissed some more before going to the kitchen for breakfast.

 

Sherlock had apparently refused to take a case yesterday just so that John could come with him today, even though it must’ve been an interesting one. John grinned even wider, wondering how no one else could see how precious the man was.

 

The case turned out to be fairly simple to solve, but proving that Sherlock was right required quite a lot more work. They ended up with John drifting down the Thames in a tiny, leaky boat, his hands tied up with yoga leggings while Sherlock tried not to get strangled by someone wearing a bright green morphsuit.

 

In the end, Sherlock managed to escape the killer and call Lestrade, who then rushed to fish John out of the river before the boat sunk completely. John was soaked to the waist in the cold water by then, and Sherlock accepted Greg’s offer to take them home since no cabbie would want someone wetting the seats.

 

They got home alright, John still shivering from the cold. Sherlock fussed over him, getting him out of the still-soaked clothes and checking that he was really okay. Then he ran a bath for John, practically pushing him into the bathroom, even when John tried to insist a shower would be enough.

 

“Your toes are red and freezing cold, just get in there,” Sherlock retorted, getting a towel ready for him. “I’ll get everything ready while you soak.”

 

“Get what ready??” John tried to ask, but Sherlock was gone already and the water was so nice, so he left it and closed his eyes, letting the hot water warm him up. He had to rub his legs and feet a bit, but eventually he started to feel like blood was flowing everywhere like it should.

 

After he’d gotten out of the tub and dried himself, John pulled on a pair of boxers and his pyjamas. As he stepped to the hallway, he noticed that all the lights were off. Frowning, he made his way to the kitchen, stopping on his tracks under the doorway again as he saw the room. The lights were off, but the table was lit up by a gorgeous candle piece and the few extra candles that were scattered in between the dishes that were the source of the delicious smell John noticed only now.

 

The table was set for two, with dark red plates, shiny cutlery and crystal wine glasses with a snowflake-like pattern. John stared at the setting until he noticed the envelope, picking it up and opening it.

 

It said ‘candlelight dinner’, this time written in a beautiful handwriting and had a small drawing of a candle with a few holly leaves as decoration next to it. John stared at the card until something brushed against his back and he jumped in surprise.

 

“Relax,” Sherlock chuckled from behind him, brushing his hand over John’s shoulder. “Let’s sit down before the food gets cold, it took quite a lot of organising to get it delivered just in the right time,” the detective murmured, sounding quite satisfied with himself. He glanced up at the mistletoe hanging above them before looking back at John, who grinned and pulled him into a kiss.

 

“How did you manage all this?” John asked when they pulled apart, walking to the table and sitting down slowly. “My bath only took fifteen minutes, maximum.”

 

“I had arranged the food days ago, I only needed to send a text when Lestrade fetched you from the boat,” Sherlock said, shrugging nonchalantly. “You can’t say my timing isn’t right on spot this time,” he added teasingly.

 

“Well, no… Definitely not,” John said, putting the card down and turning his attention to the dishes. The food looked delicious, and it clearly wasn’t the usual takeaway they ordered in since it had been delivered in gorgeous pottery and metal dishes with carvings on them.

 

“It’s Moroccan, I know you like the flavours and spices and one chef owed me a favour,” Sherlock explained, opening a bottle of wine while John filled his plate with the food, still stunned silent.

 

They both enjoyed the dinner, but especially John appreciated the thought since the food was delicious and the candlelight made everything a thousand times more romantic.

 

They drank the wine and chatted about nothing in particular, occasionally taking each other’s hand or reaching over the corner of the table to press a kiss on the other’s lips. John was glad and a little smug when he realised Sherlock had set the table so that they were almost next to each other instead of sitting at the opposite ends, making kissing much easier.

 

When they’d both had their fill of the delicious food, moved to the sofa to finish the bottle of wine and snog some more. Sherlock got a little giggly when tipsy and John spent a good while just tickling the brunet’s neck with his lips, making Sherlock giggle and shiver.

 

They ended up falling asleep on the couch, cuddled close to each other with their legs entangled under the afghan that John had pulled on top of them before succumbing to sleep.

 

 

~’*’~

 

 

John woke up when Sherlock tried to slip off the couch from underneath the doctor, jostling him in the process. “Mmm, Sh’lock?”

 

“Shhh, just sleep, you’ve got a few hours before your alarm,” Sherlock whispered, kissing John’s forehead before disappearing to the loo. John shrugged mentally, rolling over and falling asleep again.

 

He woke up again later, this time to the sound of his alarm. Groaning, he turned it off and sat up on the sofa, grimacing at the ache on his neck. As he passed the kitchen on his way to the bathroom, John grinned when he noticed Sherlock had cleared a spot on the table for his microscope again and was sitting there with his nose buried in some notes.

 

There was quite a rush at the clinic, people catching the flu or some minor cold. As he handed out sick leaves and prescriptions to various meds, John was glad he wasn’t feeling feverish at all, despite his trip to the cold river. Well, he had quite the immune system, and besides Sherlock had done a great job, getting John warmed up quickly.

 

The dinner was one of he most romantic things Sherlock had done so far, he thought. Well, the ice-skating was probably his favourite, but the fact that Sherlock had made the effort to do this was quite astounding to John.

 

The blond realised he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn’t want to stop. He grinned all through his shift, in the Tube and on the short walk to 221B. There, after climbing the stairs and smelling something delicious, John grinned even wider.

 

“What’s going on here?” John asked, leaving his coat on the rack and walking to the kitchen. The microscope was still there, but the rest of the table was filled with bowls, empty plates and a few plates already filled with cookies.

 

Sherlock was just putting a tray to the oven and straightened up when he heard John. “Here,” he said, wiping his hand on the cute apron he was wearing before giving John an envelope.

 

“’Christmas cookies and other treats’?” John read aloud, grinning at Sherlock. “You’re baking for me?”

 

Sherlock blushed very lightly and rocked back on his heels. “Well, you can help me out here, but most of the work is already done. So, um… yes?” he mumbled, nodding towards the bowls.

 

John grinned and pocketed the card, rubbing his hands together. “Alright, where can I get an adorable apron like yours?”

 

 

Together, they got everything ready, a delicious smell filling the flat. Sherlock had made a dough for tasty white chocolate and cranberry cookies, a spicy fruitcake, gingernuts and some mystery light cookie dough, and it took a while to bake everything. He’d also already made some Irish cream truffle fudge, which was waiting in the fridge.

 

At some point, the scent attracted Mrs Hudson who appeared in their kitchen and got to taste all of the treats. She and John chatted while Sherlock started to fiddle with the last dough, making some weirdly-shaped cookies from it before putting the tray in the oven.

 

When Sherlock decorated the last cookies, both John and Mrs Hudson giggled when they saw that he was making them into tiny hedgehogs. They didn’t dare to eat any of those cookies until later, and Mrs. Hudson got quite a few of the other cookies to take back to her flat since John and Sherlock couldn’t possibly eat them all.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist when I saw that hedgehog cookie recipe :P  
> Also  
> 1) I know I'm late again, I'm having a crazy busy week but I swear I'll catch up when weekend comes!  
> 2) I thought it'd be nice to add the pics here, I've done quite a lot of visual research for this fic and I wanted to share some of it :) so there is a pic of the wine glass I imagined to the candlelight dinner, and the hedgehog cookies of course


	7. December 12th and 13th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock shares a few things about himself that John didn't know, and the fluff continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm _so late_ with this, but this one was a rather long chapter, and I had a busy week and...  
>  I swear I'll catch up before Christmas!

 

 

Next morning, John was woken up by Sherlock, who was already dressed in his normal suit and a pearl grey shirt. “John wake up, there’s breakfast waiting!” The detective announced before rushing off, leaving John groaning as he sat up.

 

The doctor took a quick shower and washed up before walking to the kitchen and finding Sherlock and a bowl of oatmeal waiting for him. He sat down and pulled the dish closer.

 

“What’s all this?” John asked, glancing at Sherlock. “It’s oatmeal, you can add sugar or apple jam in it.” Sherlock said, giving John an envelope.

 

“You made oatmeal as today’s surprise?” John asked, frowning as he pulled the card out. It said ‘Sherlock’s Day’ in big letters.

 

“Oatmeal with apple jam was always my favourite breakfast choice when I was a kid,” Sherlock mumbled, shifting on his feet rather nervously. “I thought that we’d do things that I like today. Not just the work or cases, but other things as well. Of course you’ll get a day too, I’ll need you to make a list of what you’d like us to do and I’ll make it happen.”

 

John nodded. He had to admit that when he thought about things that Sherlock liked to do, the first thing that came to his mind was the cases. But looking at the bowl of oatmeal, John realised he might just learn something new about his husband. So, he smiled at Sherlock and then ate his oatmeal with apple jam.

 

They got going as soon as John was done, Sherlock giving an address to the cabbie that John didn’t recognise. The cab left them in front of a big, beautiful building, and Sherlock led them inside. The place had a huge front hall with a big, detailed staircase leading to the upper floors, and Sherlock seemed to know where to go as he led John to the second floor.

 

There were long hallways with polished, shiny parquet and the floors were painted with a creamy natural white colour that seemed extremely posh to John. Sherlock led them to the end of one hallway and opened the door for John without saying a word.

 

When he stepped in, John realised they were in a locker room of sorts. But instead of the gym hall type of metal lockers, the walls were covered in very expensive-looking wooden cabinets. Sherlock opened up one cabinet to reveal a bunch of mostly white clothes.

 

“What’s this?” John asked, confused when Sherlock gave him a piece of clothing that seemed to be… “Are these tights?”

 

“Yes, and here’s your belt. Not that you need it, but it adds to the overall experience,” the detective said, giving him something that looked like a thong.

 

“I’m not wearing that!” John protested, staring at the clothes while Sherlock started changing, leaving his coat and the suit in the cabinet and pulling on his dance belt, a pair of nude tights and a leotard that was the same shade of nude. “Come on John, there’ll only be the two of us. And we need to get going, this place’s going to be flooded with dancers in a few hours.”

 

John gave a sigh, almost protesting again but instead he gave in and got dressed. Sherlock smiled happily, picking up the two pairs of slippers and heading back to the hallway. “Excellent, now let’s go.”

 

They went into an empty studio that had mirrors covering every wall and a barre running through the whole room. Sherlock walked right to the back of the room, motioning John to come closer and then giving him the other pair of slippers.

 

“Put these on and then come take your place at the barre, I’ll instruct you.”

 

John put the slippers on, feeling utterly ridiculous, and then walked closer to the wall, looking at Sherlock expectantly.

 

“Okay, face here. Feet together and shoulders back, and just rest your right hand lightly on the barre, like this,” Sherlock said, demonstrating the position. “Your feet are now on the sixth position.”

 

John tried to mimic Sherlock’s position, still feeling quite silly. Sherlock turned around and fixed his hand and hips a bit, now wearing the lovely look of focused concentration. John found that he didn’t actually care about how stupid he looked, if it made Sherlock look at him like that.

 

They practiced the basic positions and movements, John “catching on quite quickly but moving too stiffly” as Sherlock put it. John realised ballet was actually quite a demanding sport while he watched Sherlock lift his leg up to ninety degrees easily and he himself was barely managing forty-five degrees without losing his posture.

 

When Sherlock decided they had done enough, John was sweating and shaking out his tired legs. “Okay, that’s actually difficult,” he admitted, even smiling a bit.

 

“I’ve danced ballet since I was 7,” Sherlock said, lifting his leg to the barre to stretch it. “I stopped lessons when I turned 18, but I’ve practiced it on my own to keep myself in shape. Maybe not so much during the last years though.”

 

John nodded, trying to stretch his legs too. “Why stop? You seem pretty good at it, and well, your personality clearly is made for a demanding sport like this…”

 

“Well, I moved into a student housing and I didn’t want to get bullied for it, so I thought it best to just stop,” Sherlock shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but John could see the hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. “And the last few years?” He prompted, stepping closer. Sherlock looked away, changing legs. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react, so I decided to not let you know,” he said quietly, looking at his knee as he stretched.

 

John paused, breathing in a few times before closing the distance between them and pushing himself so close that his body head was seeping into Sherlock’s back. “Love, I would never…” He started, laying his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders. “I would, and I will, _never_ make fun of your interests. I really appreciate that you’d show me all this, that you trust me with this.”

 

Sherlock took a deep breath, lowering his leg from the barre and turning around so that he was facing John. Neither said a word as they met in the middle, running hands over each other’s shoulders as they kissed.

 

 

When they were done, they quickly changed back into their usual clothes and headed to the next destination, which turned out to be the home of an Irish Setter breeder. The owner of the dogs greeted Sherlock like he knew him, which didn’t surprise John. The doctor watched in surprise though as Sherlock petted and played with the dogs, a huge smile on his face.

 

“I had a dog, called Redbeard, when I was younger,” he explained when he’d greeted each of the dogs. “He had to be put down when I was about ten.”

 

John nodded and squeezed his hand briefly before turning to one of the dogs that was eagerly begging for John’s attention. “I wouldn’t have thought you to be a dog person, but it makes perfect sense,” he said, smiling up at Sherlock while petting the dog.

 

“Well, I never had a pet since,” Sherlock shrugged, sitting down at the sofa. “We can one of the dogs out for a walk, if you like,” he added, smiling at John.

 

“Oh, that could be nice,” John nodded, smiling back and then looking at the dogs. “So, you’ve come here before?”

 

“A few times. I solved a crime for the owner, and he introduced me to the dogs,” Sherlock said, smiling again as one of the dogs jumped to the sofa and sat next to him. “I think we’re going to take you out today," he mumbled, scratching behind the dog's ear.

 

And so they ended up walking a dog around London. Well, they didn’t go very far, just to the nearest park where the dog – called Cleo, John found out – could stare at joggers running by and play in the frosty wilted grass. Sherlock seemed to radiate happiness even if he kept his calm façade on, and John grinned widely as he stood next to him, the fingers of their joined hands laced together.

 

They returned the dog and then ate warm sandwiches at some tiny sandwich bar, which Sherlock claimed wasn’t exactly a part of the day’s theme (“but you get so cranky when you’re hungry, and worried when I don’t eat”).

 

The next stop was at the outer parts of the city, quite far from the busiest traffic and tall buildings. When they got out of the cab, John looked around in confusion. It was a small property with an even smaller cottage, which meant there was space for a huge garden and John could imagine it would look quite nice at summer.

 

Sherlock led them to the front door, knocking on it. An old lady opened the door after a moment, greeting Sherlock and inviting them in. John could immediately see that she was a bee-keeper; there was a bee-keeper’s hat hanging on the wall next to copious amounts of drawings of bees and flowers. The lacy curtains had small bees on them, and when they stepped further inside, John saw a table full of different leaflets and booklets about bees and bee-keeping.

 

“Bees?” John asked, looking at Sherlock, who was hanging his coat on the rack. “Well, yes…” the detective mumbled, taking John’s coat as well and then leading them to what looked like a very homey kitchen.

 

John listened to the old lady as she talked about bees and how to take care of them and then how Sherlock helped her. They got to taste different types of honey as well as honey-flavoured ice cream, honey fudge and honey cupcakes.

 

“Mm, we’ve got to make these at home,” John mumbled as he bit into the cupcake. “This is delicious…”

 

Sherlock smiled, finishing his own cupcake and then thanking the lady, promising to come by again soon. “Yes, this was excellent, the honey’s really good,” John said too, smiling.

 

“When you come by during the summer, I’ll show you around the garden. He just needs a bit of training and he’ll be just fine,” the lady told Sherlock when they were about to walk out of the front door. Sherlock just glanced at John and nodded before hugging her and then leading John towards the main street.

 

“What’s that mean?” John asked, looking at Sherlock. “What does she mean by ‘training’?”

 

Sherlock slowed down and then stopped, almost wringing his hands. “Um… We’re married now,” he started, glancing at John and then clearing his throat. “And well, I expect we’ll stay married for the rest of our lives, right?”

 

John nodded immediately, taking Sherlock’s hands and pulling him closer. “Absolutely. So..?” he prompted gently.

 

“It’s fine if you don’t want to – I should’ve actually told you first, before telling anyone else,” Sherlock mumbled, glancing at the direction of the cottage. “I just… I’ve sort of always wanted to keep bees, it was a back-up plan if something happened and I couldn’t – well, but then I thought. Um, we’re going to have to retire one day, don’t we?”

 

John smiled through Sherlock’s fumbling speech, holding his hands gently and then leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You mean you want to keep bees when we retire?”

 

Sherlock nodded, looking at their joined hands rather than at John. “That was just an idea, it’s not –“

 

“It sounds perfect,” John interrupted, hugging him tightly. “You daft git, how could I ever say no?” Sherlock chuckled against John’s shoulder, hugging him back. Soon though, they had to keep walking so they could catch a taxi and get back to the flat. Apparently Sherlock had one more thing he wanted to show John.

 

After they got home, they ate dinner quickly and then Sherlock told John to shower and dress up. John found a garment bag on their bed when he came out of the shower. He frowned and opened it to reveal a dark grey suit and a natural white dress shirt.

 

“Sherlock?” he called out, walking to the kitchen, where Sherlock was cleaning up one of his experiments, dressed in one of his immaculate suits and the damn purple shirt. John stopped on his tracks, licking his lips and swallowing.

 

“Yes? You should dress up, I’ve already called for a taxi,” Sherlock said, smiling at him. John shook his head, snapping back to he moment. “Why did you get a suit for me? I’ve got a suit,” he mumbled, looking at Sherlock with his head tilted to the left.

 

“It’s only rented, I wouldn’t buy a suit without consulting you. But you needed it and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. You’re not going to wear your wedding suit to a simple date,” Sherlock said, scraping mould to the trash bin.

 

“Oh, you softie,” John chuckled, realising Sherlock wanted him to save his _wedding_ suit for something more special. “Come here,” he sighed, pulling Sherlock into his arms and kissing him softly.

 

After they pulled apart, John rushed to pull the suit on, and they got into the taxi. Sherlock directed the driver to The London Coliseum, and John immediately frowned.

 

“Yes, you’re going to see culture,” Sherlock chuckled, giving John a pair of tickets. “Nutcracker? The ballet?” John read out, glancing at Sherlock, who nodded and glanced at him. “Problem?”

 

John shook his head, smiling at Sherlock. “Um, no… I think I can appreciate it a bit more now that I know how difficult it actually is.”

 

So, they went to see the ballet, and John appreciated it. But he appreciated everything that Sherlock had shared that day much more.

 

 

~’*’~

 

 

Next day John got a text from Sherlock just as he was about to leave the clinic after finishing his shift. It only contained an address and nothing more, but John realised it must’ve been another surprise, so he rushed out of the building and got a cab, giving the address to the cabbie with a big smile.

 

“Having a date with your girlfriend?” the cabbie asked as the cab started moving and slid into the traffic smoothly.

 

“Nope, husband,” John grinned, not caring if the cabbie stayed silent throughout the rest of the ride. He was left outside a small café, the front window decorated with fairy lights. As he stepped inside, he saw that the tables had candles and holly decorations on them, and all the workers were wearing Christmas hats.

 

He spotted Sherlock at one table, making his way there. Sherlock already had two cups in front of him, and as soon as John had sat down, one of the baristas brought a generous slice of chocolate cake to the table. John grinned at the cake which had holly decorations on it as well.

 

“So you managed to find the most Christmassy café in London?” he teased, glancing at Sherlock who gave him an envelope (the card said ‘coffee shop date’) and then pushed a spoon and one of the cups towards John.

 

John nodded gratefully, sipping on the coffee. “Wow, this is some sort of Christmas coffee too, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing at the chalkboard above the counter. “Cardamom, clove, orange and vanilla,” Sherlock reiterated, nodding. “I thought it would be appropriate.”

 

“Mm, yes it’s pretty good,” John grinned, sipping on the drink again. They shared the chocolate cake and then got some more coffee, smiling and leaning into each other and watching as the snow started falling outside.

 

When they walked home, the snowflakes clung to Sherlock’s curls and John’s coat, and the doctor grinned at the clichéness of the whole thing and how much he indeed loved it all.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a few pictures to go with the visual image :)


	8. December 14th and 15th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more ice-skating and Sherlock gets mushy.

 

The next day, John found the envelope in his suitcase as he was fetching some papers from it. The card said ‘romantic outdoors ice-skating: vol.2’, and John chuckled to himself. Suddenly he couldn’t wait for his shift to end.

 

When he got home, he barely had time for a shower and quick dinner before Sherlock was dragging him into a cab. They went to the same place as before, this time they arrived there a bit later so the Christmas lights seemed to be exceptionally bright. It was snowing again and the ground was covered in a thin layer of pure white snow and John thought it was wonderful.

 

They warmed up by skating round the rink a few times, John still inexperienced enough that he was hanging onto Sherlock’s hand, grinning widely. When he started remembering how the skates worked, Sherlock helped him to try crossover again, and then they did a few slow-motion pirouettes too, Sherlock hugging John tightly and moving his feet so that they were spinning around.

 

John laughed and giggled and then pulled Sherlock into a kiss, cupping the detective’s cheeks with his mitten-clad hands. Sherlock kissed back and then they skated some more before they got cocoa and headed back home, both smiling happily with their red noses and blushed cheeks.

 

 

~’*’~

 

 

The next day, there was no mention of that day’s surprise until the very evening, when John and Sherlock were sitting on their armchairs and relaxing, with the fire cracking in the fireplace. Suddenly Sherlock broke the silence and stood up, holding his laptop open.

 

“John,” he just said, stopping in front of the doctor’s armchair and pulling an envelope from the pocket of his dressing gown. John took it, and read the card quickly. “’John Watson appreciation blog post’?” he raised his eyebrows, looking at Sherlock.

 

“Yes, um… here,” Sherlock mumbled, giving John his laptop. John saw that there was a new entry to Sherlock’s website, titled simply ‘John Watson’.

 

 

_‘Probably every single one of you knows who John Watson is, and most of them also know that I’m married to him. What you don’t know is how deeply I love and appreciate him, both as a human being and a partner._

_But he’s not just my husband, he’s also my friend, my soulmate and the only one I trust completely. He makes me do all sort of boring mundane things like cleaning and shopping, but he also makes me feel things I’ve never felt before._

_I’ve never valued another person’s wellbeing more than my own interests and I’ve certainly never taken someone else’s needs into consideration when even when it’s not directly beneficial to me._

_Well, that’s not quite right. It is always beneficial to me to make sure John’s happy. I don’t know what I’d do without him, or what would happen to me, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be good. His presence has helped me think and work since the day one, but eventually he became absolutely necessary for my brain to work as it should._

_I would’ve been mortified at this dependence before, but now I can see just how much he gives in return. I’ve never felt more alive, and I can only wish that I’m having at least somewhat similar effect on him._

_I know I sound absolutely sodden right now, but this is what John Watson has done to me. He’s made me soft and mushy. But that’s just what he does. He makes me watch his ridiculously slow typing when he’s updating his blog, he makes me eat food at regular intervals and watch his ridiculous Christmas jumpers every year. And I love every second of it._

_Sherlock Holmes.’_

 

 

John lifted his eyes from the laptop screen, his eyes a little misty. “You sound like a sodden, mushy genius in love,” he managed to say, taking Sherlock’s hand in his and squeezing it. Then he added, with a big grin: “Now publish it quickly before you change your mind.”

 

“I’d never change my mind,” Sherlock scoffed, but published the text with a big smile on his face. With John’s eager agreement, he also posted the text on John’s blog, just so that people could actually see it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I catching up?? Nope?? But at least my Christmas mood is back so expect me to get stuff done soon!


	9. December 16th and 17th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is getting closer, and John gets in the spotlight.

 

Saturday, Sherlock woke John up but didn’t tell what that day’s calendar surprise would be until after they’d had lunch (meaning takeaway from the closest Chinese). Then he threw John’s coat onto the doctor’s face and pulled his Belstaff on. “Come on, John!”

 

John pulled the coat on and then frowned. “Wait, where are we going?”

 

“Christmas shopping!” Sherlock informed him, giving a familiar looking envelope to John. The card said exactly what Sherlock had said.

 

“You think that’s a good idea? You usually squash every idea that I have.”

 

Sherlock gave him a long-suffering look. “It wouldn’t be listed as a surprise if I didn’t put any effort into it. So I’ll try to be as positive and helpful as I can,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Unless your gift ideas are utterly idiotic, but I’m sure that won’t happen. You’re the expert on socialising after all.”

 

John grinned, taking Sherlock’s hand as they got into a cab. They went to see the Carnaby Christmas lights and then started shopping. The masses of people made them both a little impatient to get it all done quickly, but they still managed to find some gifts for Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, Molly and a few other people. Sherlock even found something that he deemed useful enough to give to Mycroft.

 

They also bought wrapping paper before they stopped at a café to get hot drinks. They were both done with the crowds and agreed that they’d shopped enough. But when John suggested they take separate ways home so they could buy gifts for each other Sherlock refused, saying that John shouldn’t get him anything.

 

“But I want to get you something,” John said, frowning at him over his cup of coffee. But Sherlock just shook his head.

 

“There’s nothing material that you could give me that would be better than having you by my side.”

 

“Oh, you soppy bee,” John sighed, smiling and kissing him softly. “I might get you something anyways, I’ll always be on your side, so that’s not really a gift.”

 

 

~’*’~

 

 

As promised, the next day was John’s day. He’d given Sherlock a list of things he wanted to show Sherlock, so it wouldn’t exactly be a surprise. But John liked the thought anyways, and he had nearly snickered at the look on Sherlock’s face when he’d first read through the list.

 

They started with the simplest and quickest breakfast of eggs and toast, which had been a very common type throughout John’s school years. Then they headed to an old school gym to meet up with an amateur rugby team.

 

They had quite a lot of fun in the end, trying some basic moves and tactics before putting up a small game.

 

Sherlock looked absolutely ridiculous in the shorts, the jersey and helmet that squished his curls, but the detective had had time to brace himself to the experience, so he handled it with grace.

 

At least until he got tackled for the first time.

 

But they survived without any bigger bruises, and Sherlock seemed quite happy too, which John thought was quite a big thing. He’d loved rugby – still did even though he didn’t play anymore – so it was satisfying to see that Sherlock could like it too. John wondered if Sherlock felt the same way about John’s respect towards ballet too.

 

Next stop was a place John hadn’t been completely sure they could get into, but he’d written it there in the hopes that it might happen.

 

The army training base was as busy as he remembered it to be, and he instantly got hit by the nostalgic feeling when he saw a group jog by. They found a soldier who could show them around, and John was surprised to see Sherlock practically soak up all the information available like a dry sponge. He stared at the poor guy and asked questions, stopping at every small detail and fixing his deducing gaze into every passer-by.

 

John didn’t really pay attention to the things their guide told them, partly because he knew it all and partly because he was too busy remembering the times he’d spent there.

 

Only when Sherlock pulled him by the sleeve, wordlessly asking him to stop, John focused fully on him.

 

“There’s a potential case,” he murmured into John’s ear, practically vibrating with energy. “Someone’s being blackmailed, and there are plans of a possible terrorist attack involved.”

 

John stared at Sherlock for a full five seconds before nodding, and the case was on. They only needed to sniff around some more and then evacuate half of the base and run after some baddies, but then the case was solved. John was surprised at how quickly it all went by, but then again there had been no plans for a case involved in the first place.

 

They celebrated their victory with a meal in the closest restaurant, and then continued John’s plans as normal. Their next stop was a stable near the edge of the city, something that Sherlock seemed to need an actual explanation for.

 

“Mom tried to get Harry interested in horses, so she could have something to do instead of partying and hanging out every night. It didn’t really catch her interest, but I ended up liking it. I went to the closest stable a few times a week for almost two years before I had to stop when I had no money after starting at uni.”

 

Sherlock stared at him and then the stable, before nodding determinedly. They went inside, and John couldn’t help but smile at the familiar scent and sounds.

 

They got to meet one of the horses, cleaning her up and then equipping her so that Sherlock and John could try riding. John was a little rusty, but he quickly caught on but Sherlock had more trouble. For some reason, he just couldn’t get the horse to listen to him, no matter how good he’d been with the dogs.

 

In the evening, they went out for pints with John’s old army mates and they had a good time. John was surprised at the amount of effort Sherlock was putting into it all, making small talk and even toasting with all the guys every time they got new rounds.

 

They ended up getting rather drunk, leaning into each other as they climbed the stairs up to their flat. As soon as the door was closed, John pinned Sherlock to the surface and then they proceeded to snog rather sloppily due to their inebriated states, ending up giving each other hasty handjobs on the living room floor.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know... I'm so late with these, the flow died and I'm having some trouble getting stuff done.


	10. December 18th and 19th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there something more Christmassy than ugly jumpers and gingerbreads?

 

 

The mistletoes were probably John's favourite thing so far. He liked the way Sherlock would get up from the sofa suddenly when John was about to walk under the doorway. The detective would practically run towards the kitchen so that he'd "happen" to walk under the mistletoe at the same time as John and that way get to kiss him shyly (and a few times not-so-shyly) multiple times during the day.

 

They did kiss quite a lot, but this was different and brought a sort of a novel feeling to kissing. Sherlock would glance at the mistletoe sometimes, blatantly inviting John to press soft kisses to his lips which he rarely did now that he’d gotten more confident with intimacy. John found it adorable and sometimes he’d tell Sherlock just that, but more often than not the doctor would just kiss him back, making sure Sherlock knew how much John loved kissing him.

 

Today, Sherlock emerged from their bedroom as John was about to leave for work and actually pulled John under the mistletoe so he could kiss him.

 

“You know you can kiss me without the mistletoe too?” John giggled when they broke apart, their noses touching. “Mmm, but I like the idea,” Sherlock grinned back, kissing him again. John lifted his hands to Sherlock’s shoulders and then frowned.

 

“Wait, what are you wearing? Is this one of my jumpers?” he asked, pulling back to look at the garment. It was rather short for Sherlock.

 

“Obviously,” Sherlock mumbled, blushing gently but smirking at John.

 

“No, wait. I don’t have a jumper like that,” John noted, looking at the dark brown jumper with white snowflake patterns on it.

 

“Now you do,” Sherlock said simply, stepping back to pull the jumper off, pulling an envelope from his pocket at the same time. “And it’s not the only one…”

 

John read the card, glancing back at Sherlock in surprise and amusement. “’Warm jumpers, one tolerable and one hideous’ What does ‘hideous’ mean, exactly?” He asked, shaking his head fondly.

 

“You’ll see when you come back,” Sherlock promised with a grin.

 

And John did see it when he came back. A dark blue jumper that had rows of different Christmas-themed patterns like reindeer, Christmas stockings and gifts wrapped in a bow. The jumper was a little lumpy in a way that screamed ‘hand-made’ and John looked at Sherlock, who was holding the garment up. “Who did you get to make this? It’s not hideous at all.”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, lowering the jumper. “I made it myself, thank you very much. And of course it is hideous, look at it!”

 

John’s eyebrows shot up and the took the jumper for a closer inspection. “You _made a jumper_ for me?”

 

“Uh, why not? You clearly like weird-looking Christmas jumpers, and your favourite one is getting rather worn out.”

 

John gazed at Sherlock lovingly, rewarding him with hundreds of kisses. "You're the best husband. You made a whole jumper for me, that's... How did you even manage this without me noticing?"

 

Sherlock smiled almost proudly, his cheeks turning a little pink. "I'm very stealthy... And it's a well-known fact that you're not very observant."

 

"Git."

 

 

~’*’~

 

 

The next day John came home to find Sherlock about to bake something again. Sherlock got him an apron too and then they baked gingerbreads from a dough Sherlock had prepared earlier and drank eggnog that Sherlock had prepared earlier too.

 

With Sherlock’s impeccable accuracy they build a gingerbread castle decorating it with sugary icicles and suspiciously wonky gingerbread pine trees since John was a bit too tipsy from the eggnog to cut the trees up correctly, which amused Sherlock to no end.

 

They also made miniature versions of each other and propped them up at the entrance to the gingerbread castle. John noted that the figures looked like they were up to something, to which Sherlock simply stated that they were looking for a quiet corner for a quickie.

 

John snorted before bursting into laughter. He kissed Sherlock in between bouts of laughter until Sherlock decided to shut him up by pinning him against the fridge and then plunging his hand into John’s pants unceremoniously, cutting John's moan short.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might add some more detail later, since this is rather short. But heyy I'm trying at least.


	11. December 20th and 21st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is seriously getting close and so preparations and relaxation are both on the list.

 

 

Next day there was a case in the morning and then a long list of rather questionable experiment materials that Sherlock insisted were necessary for the case. John spent the morning and most of the afternoon running around and fetching the things Sherlock needed to experiment on.

 

When the case was finally solved, they ate homemade pizza with Mrs Hudson and then settled to the living room, Sherlock on his chair and John sprawled on the sofa. After a few moments Sherlock got up and fetched an envelope from the desk, tossing it onto John’s chest before disappearing into the bathroom.

  
That day’s card said ‘Christmas-scented bath’ and John was again baffled by how Sherlock had known John would be in need of a relaxing bath on just that day.

 

Sherlock emerged after a while, inviting John into the bathroom. The doctor went happily, smiling at Sherlock and kissing him softly.

 

The bathroom was dark except for the candles on the edges of the sink and corner of the bathtub. There were a few bags that John supposed contained herbs, and a few oranges with cloves, making the room smell nice and Christmassy. The bath was filled with water and slightly orange bubbles.

 

“I didn’t use anything suspicious, the bathbomb makes the foam go orange,” Sherlock said, motioning for John to strip. John did just that, smirking at Sherlock. “You use bathbombs?” he teased, quickly getting rid of his clothes.

 

“Well, this occasion needed it,” Sherlock shrugged, undressing too and then stepping into the tub, pulling John in there too. They found a comfortable position, cuddling in the warm water until it grew tepid, enjoying the romantic atmosphere and the lovely scents.

 

 

~’*’~

 

 

Next morning John woke up alone again, with only an envelope on Sherlock’s pillow. ‘Christmas tree decorating’ said the card, and John dressed up with a big grin on his face, finding Sherlock in the kitchen, working on some experiment.

 

“So, you’ve got us a tree?” John asked, getting coffee. Sherlock had clearly made him sandwiches already, and he munched on them happily, sitting across from Sherlock. “Uh, yeah… In the living room,” Sherlock replied distractedly, still staring into the microscope.

 

John checked out the tree and then spent a while on his computer, clearing his inbox. Sherlock kept fetching new experiment containers from the fridge, clearly not done anytime soon, so John decided to take a walk and then chat with Mrs Hudson for a bit. He ate at Speedy’s with her and when John finally returned to 221b, Sherlock seemed to be done with the experiment project, waiting for John on the sofa.

 

The box of decorations was waiting for them on the floor, and Sherlock had already detangled the lights for the tree. John pulled Sherlock up from the sofa and then they got to work. John arranged the lights like he wanted them, and Sherlock got to decorate the top of the tree since he was the taller one and could actually reach the upper branches. They filled the tree with tinsel, tiny decorations made of straw, and the classic baubles. Sherlock also got the honours of putting the star on the top.

 

When the tree was done, they turned on the lights and then just looked at the tree, now shining and twinkling as the lights shone to the tinsel and the more glittery baubles. As they stood next to each other in front of the tree and watched it happily, John smiled widely to himself and pulled Sherlock closer by the hip, resting his head on the detective’s shoulder contentedly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I'm so close to catching up on these :D I wish I could've stayed on "schedule" but oh well I actually have a holiday to have


	12. December 22nd, 23rd and 24th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last days until Christmas Eve are filled with fluff, drinks and some sexy times.

 

 

Friday's surprise became clear when Sherlock dumper a huge pile of different wrapping papers, pens and markers, ribbons and small Christmas-themed card decorations on the floor and then stuffed an envelope into John's hand before fetching the bag of presents they'd bought.

 

'Gift wrapping with cookies and hot cocoa' said the card, and John grinned as he moved from his chair to the floor.

 

"You're combining fun and work quite efficiently, you know?" He teased as Sherlock carried a tray filled with two huge cups of cocoa and plateful of the leftover cookies from before. The hedgehog cookies were there too, and John snickered a bit.

 

Sherlock chuckled too and put on some Christmas music before sitting down on the floor as well. "Well, why not? I promised to surprise you every day, and since you're so surprised when I'm helpful..." Sherlock shrugged with a big grin on his face.

 

"Mmm, you git. So, we're wrapping presents?"

 

"And making cards too," Sherlock said, getting the first gifts out of the bag.

 

They wrapped the gifts nicely, sipping on their mugs and feeding each other cookies, and Sherlock made big decorations from the ribbon to put on top of the packages.

 

With the gifts done, they turned their attention to the cards. John had no artistic blood in him, but with Sherlock’s aspiration for perfectionism, they managed to make the cards look rather beautiful. John handled the glue and taping while Sherlock cut, folded and tore materials into shapes and sizes he needed, giving John strict instructions on how to glue and tape everything into a well-balanced, aesthetically pleasing ensemble.

 

“Sherlock, most of the recipients won’t really pay attention. And besides, we won’t be there to see if they do, anyways,” John sighed while Sherlock tried to fix a card after “John had done it improperly”.

 

“Of course you’ll be there to see it,” he mumbled distractedly as he tried to straighten a picture of holly leaves that John had glued awry.

 

“But that’s – wait, what?” John asked, frowning at Sherlock.

 

“Of course you’ll be there to see the reaction, I said,” Sherlock rolled his eyes, now giving up on the card and looking at John. “We’ll have a Christmas party this year. It was meant to be the surprise for Christmas Eve, although maybe it’s better that you got a heads up before that…”

 

John grinned, nodding at Sherlock. “Well, yeah that’s actually good to know before you get the flat full of people. So who’ll be coming?”

 

“Mrs Hudson, Lestrade and Mycroft, although Mycroft will just drop Lestrade off and get his present. And then Molly and her fiancée and Mike,” Sherlock listed, shrugging. “It’s not very many people after all, I think.”

 

John nodded, chuckling a bit. “Alright, I’m sure we can manage with six guests.”

 

“Sure we can, I just don’t know how nice it’ll be. Especially if Mycroft decides to stay longer. Lestrade’s bringing his social side out and it’s unbelievably tedious.”

 

 

~’*’~

 

 

The next morning, Sherlock was still in bed when John woke up, sleeping soundly with one of his arms trapped under John’s pillow. John grinned at the sight, wrapping his arms around the brunet and nearly falling asleep again until Sherlock spoke. “You’re not going back to sleep, we have things to do.”

 

“Is that why you’re still in bed, looking so very busy?” John asked, pulling Sherlock closer and nuzzling his neck. “Just give me ten more minutes.”

 

“John, I’m not an alarm clock, you can’t snooze me,” Sherlock replied indignantly, but still he tilted his head to give John more room. The doctor giggled, kissing the skin behind Sherlock’s ear and then blowing a raspberry on his cheek.

 

“John!” Sherlock protested, giggling too now.

 

“Alright, let’s get up,” John chuckled, pulling back and getting up, heading straight to the bathroom. Sherlock let out a louder protest, hastily following John which earned him a shared shower.

 

That day’s surprise was ‘Christmas dinner preparations’, which meant baking and cooking and preparing ingredients for tomorrow’s party appetizers and tasting a few different versions of mulled wine to see which one was the best. Sherlock got clingy when tipsy, and after that they barely got anything done when Sherlock demanded they cuddle on the sofa for hours.

 

 

~’*~

 

 

For the Christmas party, John wore the lovely-hideous jumper Sherlock had made while Sherlock produced a more restrained version with one detailed white snowflake on a beige jumper. They finished the appetizers and made some more gingerbreads before John started on the mulled wine and Sherlock tidied up in the living room. Mrs Hudson joined them at one point, fussing about everything and helping John in the kitchen despite his protests.

 

Molly and her partner – apparently called Ann – arrived first, and John got them both a glass of wine before Lestrade and Mycroft arrived, and Mike followed just after them. When all of them got a glass, John finally took a seat on the sofa and smiled at the sight. Sherlock just nodded at all their guests and joined John, sitting right next to him. “I’m already bored, why did I think this was a good idea?” he muttered to John’s ear. John chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Just finish your wine and get some more, it’ll take the most tedious edge off this.”

 

In the end they all had a nice time, the conversation getting smoother after John got out the food and they all gathered around the kitchen table. Molly’s fiancée turned out to be a hilarious woman, and even Sherlock’s mouth turned up at her jokes.

 

Mycroft got over his insistent urge to leave and when the time for exchanging gifts came, he and Sherlock actually managed to do it with smiles on their faces. Lestrade seemed very happy at the sight, and he actually winked at John, who chuckled and nodded back, patting Sherlock’s back when he came to drop his gift under the tree along with the ones he got from Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and Molly.

 

“Aren’t you going to open any presents today?” John looked at him from the couch.

 

“No, we’ll save them for tomorrow. I already know what all of these contain,” Sherlock said with a grin, leaning in to kiss John softly and then whisper against his lips: “Besides, I’ve got something more important to unwrap today.”

 

John got a sudden urge to end the party and get Sherlock to their bedroom. But ignored it, keeping up the happy Christmas spirit. Sherlock kept glancing at him and grinning, and John knew the detective was enjoying himself despite all the protests and eye-rollings.

 

When everyone left, Sherlock and John cuddled on the sofa and listened to some relaxing piano versions of the Christmas classics. Eventually they decided to call it a day, which meant Sherlock dragging John to the bedroom and finally unwrapping his first gift.

 

“Oh my God, Sherlock,” John cried out, one hand burying itself in Sherlock’s curls when he brunet took his tip into his mouth, suckling a little. When Sherlock started bobbing his head, the doctor glanced at the fairy lights hanging over the headboard before focusing his eyes on the curly head again, smiling widely to himself.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA guess who miscounted and then needed to fit all three days into this chapter.  
> But honestly, I'm surprised I managed to finish this at least somewhat in time, I wish I had such commitment to school stuff too lol


	13. Bonus: Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock planned something special for Christmas Day as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could say that this was an unplanned chapter but then I'd be lying.  
> Inspired by [this](http://aconsultingdetective.tumblr.com/post/103446415347/legit-johnlock-scenes-maybe-a-ribbon-too) tumblr post.

 

 

Christmas Day started with Sherlock shaking John awake and poking him on the nose with the corner of an envelope.

 

"Mmm, Sherl - what are you wearing?" John asked, rubbing his eyes and taking the envelope while frowning at Sherlock's getup.

 

The detective was wearing his midnight blue gown and a reindeer antler headband. "Antlers, John! Don't be slow," Sherlock chirped before rushing off again.

 

John sat up and opened the envelope, shaking his head fondly. This time the card was folded, with a detailed number 25 on the front. John opened it and smiled widely. 'I'll wear the antlers for Christmas Day' it said. John was about to put the card back when he noticed it had text on the back as well.

 

'Just the antlers'

 

John's eyes widened just as Sherlock came back, carrying a tray full of plates and cups. He was still wearing the robe, and John grinned as the detective sat next to him on the bed and fed him small sandwiches, honeyed fruit slices and truffles. John returned the favour, gasping as Sherlock licked the honey from John's fingers.

 

Eventually they finished breakfast and then cuddled and sipped tea contentedly.

 

"So do you like the antlers?" Sherlock asked after a while, nestled against John's chest.

 

"Mm, they look very dashing on you," John nodded, smiling. "Maybe I shoulder have a pair as well."

 

Sherlock giggled, pressing a kiss to John's chest and sighing happily. After a while he shifted again, looking at John. “You read the card, right?” He asked, sounding slightly nervous.

 

“The whole card? Yeah,” John nodded, smirking at Sherlock. When the detective just nodded in reply, sitting up and then biting his lip nervously, John smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “If you meant ‘just the antlers’ as in with the robe, it’s fine. You know it is very much fine.”

 

“I know, of course I know. It’s not that…” Sherlock mumbled, fiddling with the string of the robe for a moment before shaking his head. “Let’s just open the presents first.”

 

“Yeah, sounds great,” John nodded, letting Sherlock pull him to the living room. They got some more tea and then opened the few presents they got yesterday. Sherlock got a pair of gloves and a fancy notebook while John got a pair of nice woolly socks, a new laptop case and a box of chocolates.

 

Like they’d agreed, Sherlock didn’t get John a present, but John had gotten Sherlock a new set of pro grade test tubes since Sherlock had broken his last decent ones when John had been giving him a blowjob during an experiment. (“Just this once since it's partly my fault - and we're never having sex while you use that bloody Bunsen again!”)

 

Sherlock accepted the gift with a shrug and carried the box to his experiment cupboard right away. Then he got back to the living room, wringing his hands nervously. “John?”

 

The doctor stopped folding the wrapping papers and looked up, smiling. “Yes, love?”

 

“Um, I – it’s not really a gift. Well, yeah it is, or I meant it to be…” he bit his lip again, shifting a bit and picking at the bow of the robe string. “And well, you got me something, so this should be a present then…”

 

“Sherlock, you don’t need to do anything you’re not comfortable with. The antlers are cute, and I quite like seeing you in just a robe so d–“

 

John drifted off when Sherlock shrugged off the dressing robe. He was nude underneath it, except for a pair of very tiny red panties, not quite a thong but close enough. John swallowed hard and tore his eyes off the obvious bulge to look at Sherlock, who was watching him with a shy smile.

 

“That’s quite… Um, really fucking sexy,” John said calmly, standing up and stepping closer to get a better look. He ran a finger over the waistband before cupping Sherlock’s half hard prick briefly, which earned him a moan from the brunet.

 

“You’re brilliant,” John grinned, kissing him softly. Sherlock kissed back for a few seconds and then broke away. “You haven’t seen the gift part,” he mumbled quietly, taking John’s wrist and guiding it to the small of his back.

 

John slid his hand lower slowly, and then burst out laughing when he realised the panties had a huge bow just above Sherlock’s arse. “Oh my god, that’s so precious,” John giggled, taking a look at the bow and then kissing Sherlock again.

 

“John, you do know why it’s there, right?” Sherlock mumbled, tugging on John’s t-shirt now. “A big bow, right on my bum…”

 

John pulled back and looked at him. “Are you sure?”

 

“Of course I’m sure,” Sherlock scoffed, starting to pull John to the bedroom. “I’ve had 24 days to reconsider after writing that card and not once have I had any doub–“

 

John cut him off with a kiss, sitting down on the bed and tugging Sherlock into his lap. He let his hands wander up and down Sherlock’s thighs and sides for a good while, sucking on his lower lip gently. When they broke the kiss, both of them were breathing heavily, with John’s hand on Sherlock’s hips.

 

“How do you want me?” John mumbled, looking into Sherlock’s eyes. “You’ve got the lead.”

 

“Umm, just sit over there, your back against the headboard,” Sherlock said breathily, getting off of John’s lap and fetching the lube. “Could you..?”

 

“Of course,” John smiled, taking the lube and slicking his fingers up while Sherlock slipped out of the panties and straddled the blond’s hips. “We’re so using those panties again, by the way,” John mumbled, kissing Sherlock and rubbing a fingertip at Sherlock’s entrance.

 

Sherlock moaned, rolling his hips, and the finger slipped inside. John took his time preparing him, adding a second and a third digit with loads of stretching in between. By the time he’d taken the third finger, Sherlock was a gasping, moaning mess, practically rubbing himself off against John’s stomach.

 

“Please, John!” He pleaded, kissing the doctor and tugging on his t-shirt again.

 

“Alright, alright,” John chuckled, kissing back and pulling his fingers free, wiping them on his shirt as he pulled it off. Then Sherlock stripped him from his pyjama bottoms and boxers before straddling his hips again. “Now hurry up,” he pleaded.

 

John moaned, rolling a condom on himself and lubing it up quickly. “Fuck, you’re the best, Sherlock, I swear to – _god_ ,” he moaned as Sherlock sunk on him, both of them moaning. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, getting used to the sensations.

 

“You alright?” John groaned, resting his hands on Sherlock’s hips as he fought to keep his hips from bucking up. Sherlock moaned again and nodded frantically. “Uh, yes… Yes. You?”

 

“You need to ask?” John chuckled, squeezing Sherlock’s hip. “I could come right now, to be honest.”

 

Sherlock glanced at him quickly and then lifted up a little before sinking down again, moaning John’s name.

 

“Jesus, Sherlock,” John groaned, leaning against the headboard as Sherlock started moving, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. John struggled to keep his eyes open too, his hands gripping Sherlock’s hips and nearly pulling on him every time the brunet ground down.

 

All too soon, Sherlock’s orgasm swept over him and he froze, crying out as he rode out the waves of pleasure. John felt him clench around him, and it brought him over the edge as well. He pulled Sherlock tightly against himself, kissing him heatedly and a little sloppily.

 

When they’d both come down from the high, John cleaned them with a wet towel and then cuddled Sherlock on the bed. Sherlock wrapped himself around John like an octopus, kissing his neck contentedly.

 

“Merry Christmas, John.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Sherlock.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cannoli, over 16K words in one month?? I did that?? Wow


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